


Therapy

by DagReaper (TyJaxReaper)



Series: A Home For Wayward Mind-Wiped Assassins [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Clint Barton Friendship, Bucky Barnes Recovering, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Fun, Kissing, M/M, Nerf Gun War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7232986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyJaxReaper/pseuds/DagReaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This is where you try mouth to mouth resuscitation,” the archer pointed out, making him snort.</p><p>“I doubt CPR will work on a guy littered with bullet holes and already proclaimed himself dead,” he laughed a little, staring down at him and seeing the smirk growing on Bartons’ face.</p><p>“Just go with it, you never know,” he sounded too excited for this</p>
            </blockquote>





	Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> I really love this pairing and plan to do a shit-ton more because there needs to be way more on them!!! ...... Just sayin'.

Clint really didn’t know why Steve put him in charge of Barnes’ therapy sessions. The bigguy really should’ve known better than to ask him for help. He probably shoulda went to Natasha if he were honest. Because all hell was about to break loose in Tony’s tower, or more specifically, his living room. Yeah, there was pizza boxes stacked to the side and out of the way, a massive stack of beer cases right next to it. But before the pizza and beer, there was to be a war, a war of the most deadly kind in the form of Nerfguns.

That’s right, you heard him, Nerfguns. He’d gotten four KDWs’, pistols. Two shotguns. Two Mossbergs, which blow out a ton of foam bullets in less than two seconds. Two rifle types with no range on the scope, two M4A1s types and even got an 800 stack each and they were scattered around the entirety of the living room.

He was glad for the huge space that was that room, meaning they could have a fuck-ton of fun in the biggest room in the tower. Yeah, they’d be yelled at later, but as long as Barnes had fun, that’s all that really mattered to him. This was why he thought he was actually good with therapy, he knew what fun was and he had ideas on what people would be comfortable with.

James was trained to be a Supersoldier sniper, _try saying that when you’re drunk,_ meaning he was an ace with weaponry and was a perfect aim. He was good and comfy with guns. So was Clint to a point, Nerfguns... he loved. He didn’t know if Barnes had ever done anything like this, but he knew that it would be a butt-load of fun for both of them. If it triggered a memory or something, Clint would deal with it as soon as he saw that something was up.

Now, to the present. Clint had invited Bucky to hang for the night while everyone was out, saying that there’d be pizza and beer and Netflix. Whe in reality... He’d scattered ammo-zines around the room, as well as guns with one magazine slotted into them. The entire room was clean with furniture having been moved around for shelter from the opponent and some were even moved out of the room just in case they broke shit. And there was one pistol propped up against the wall outside, near the elevator and he made clear to JARVIS to tell Barnes that there would be a war in the living for him and the pistol was his only weapon until he was inside.

Hell, he even got Tony’s AI to play some old Rambo III battle theme for atmosphere. He really went all out on this. Clint himself, was hiding behind the emptied corner bar, ducked low while he kept his ear out for Barnes’ entrance or JARVIS. This would be so much fun.

“ _Mr. Barton. Mr. Barnes has acknowledged your declaration of Nerf-War and_ _has reluctantly consented,_ ” Clint couldn’t keep the grin off of his face when he heard the AI pass on the info and the elevator doors ‘whooshed’ open.

He quickly jumped up from his crouched position to his knees to look over the bartop, his pistol drawn and aimed at the elevator. He shot twice by the time Barnes ducked and rolled behind the table dropped onto its side. None hit him. Clint ducked again and crawled over to the corner of the bar, managing to peek around it for a second before he saw the bright orange, tiny tubes heading his way. He squeaked as he drew back, the things narrowly missing him. He’d felt the air rush passed with them.

He let out a chuckle and peeked around the corner again, gun first this time and he shot at the table, bullets flying from both ways as Barnes joined in and Clint jumped from his spot, launching himself away from the bar in a roll and he ended up behind one of the sofas, having seen the other man jump over the table and duck behind the long cupboard. He heard him slam back against it, his back thumping it.

Clint took his chance to peak, pistol up first again and he looked, his eyes snapping open when he saw the M4 aimed at him over the top of the cupboard. It fired.

“Holy shit!” he squeaked and ducked. Once the firing paused Clint turned and looked again, aiming his gun out just in time to fire, but then- Nothing, his gun was freaking empty. He glanced around his little corner, no pistol magazine. He cursed under his breath and looked over in other areas, seeing a few, but they were in Barnes’ line of sight. He’d be dead if he jumped out over there.

He turned and shifted over to the other side of the couch, peeking around that corner. And low and behold, a pistol magazine! He reached and grabbed it, quickly swapping out and then he jumped up and around the sofa to the kitchen corner, hiding behind the wall part and then he ducked.

“Hey, I forget,” he heard the soldier speak up. “Were you a hawk or a chicken?” he taunted. He loved that the guy was really getting into this, and it was even funnier that he was actually goading him.

“Hawk, and you’re on his ‘beat-down’ list,” he shot back, darting up to a stand with his pistol aimed low at the cupboard on the other end of the room. He waited until he saw the black hair before firing and he actually gawked when the man shot across the room at lightning speed and slid across the carpet to land behind the kitchen counter, where Clint was, but now they were on the opposite sides of it. Barnes suddenly shot up and grabbed his wrist just before he managed to shoot and turned to the side, avoiding the foam bullets. Bucky aimed his gun at Clint, the archer only narrowly missing the spray by dropping his head to the side and turning, ripping his hand from the mans grip and he darted across the room as fast as he could, dropping behind the big dvd cupboard.

They were far away from each other again and Clint could die with relief when he saw the other M4 right next to him, just sitting there with a full, big magazine. He instantly grabbed it and tucked the pistol into the back of his lounge pants. Bucky more than likely did the same out of habit.

The archer jumped up and started firing, aiming for the kitchen counter where he’d been when he caught Clint beforehand. He unloaded it until there was about a quarter of the mag left and then he ducked again, only just peeking over to see Barnes jump around the kitchen corner and fire at him as he rolled over to the couch Clint had been hiding behind before.

\-------------------- **twenty minute skip**

He was nearly out. He used the M4A1 and the rifle, which was shit, even for a kids toy. He only had his pistol left, with his last seven foam bullets, and he was pretty sure that Barton only had the rifle left, having wasted the pistol and M4A1. He wasn’t completely sure, but he counted how many shots the archer took and he was about five bullets shy of empty. So he had less of a chance than James. He was sure that if Clint had a bow, he’d be screwed.

James unclipped the magazine of the pistol for a second, double-checking how many bullets he had and he was really on his last full mag. He took a breath and carefully turned around, his back leaving the wall. He was hidden behind the sofa again, Clint back behind the bar. He could hear him reloading the gun he had. James would admit outloud that he was actually having fun. This was violence with the violence and he was happy that the other man thought of this. He couldn’t remember the last time he smiled, _genuinely_ smiled. This was the most fun he’d had in a really long time. The last time being somewhere back in the forties.

“I take it, by your weapon silence that you’re drawing your white-flag?” he could _hear_ the grin on the other mans’ face and it brought one to his.

“Not a damn chance!” he retorted and took a deep breath before shooting to a stand and jumping around the couch to unload his entire clip on the unsuspecting archer.

“Holy cra-,” the bullets hit dead on, over and over. Seven little, orange pellets bounced off of his thin, grey t-shirt.

“Ahhh, oh no!” he instantly started _acting_ out the death scene to a crappy old movie, dramatically dropping his gun and running his hands over his chest where the bullets hit. “Blood,” he stated, falling onto his back, still running his hands over himself. “Blood, blood... blood! And...” dramatic pause. “Death!” he dropped completely limp on the carpet and James chuckled at him, relaxing now that he’d won and he stepped over, pistol still in hand as he crouched next to him, close to his side where Clint was just staring up at the ceiling, eyes open with a smirk on his lips.

“This is where you try mouth to mouth resuscitation,” the archer pointed out, making him snort.

“I doubt CPR will work on a guy littered with bullet holes and already proclaimed himself dead,” he laughed a little, staring down at him and seeing the smirk growing on Bartons’ face.

“Just go with it, you never know,” he sounded too excited for this part, but he decided to go along with it anyway, shaking his head a little before tossing the gun aside and moving to lean down over the archer, his face getting closer and closer. He ghosted their lips for a few seconds before actually sealing them together. It wasn’t rough or stiff. It was simple and warm, soft and only minor shifting. There was no CPR. It was just kissing.

James was about to pull away when he felt the hand reach up and circle his throat, the palm hot on the back of his neck while it kept him down and still. He could feel Clint starting to kiss, his lips shifted warmly against him, pressing in a little closer and stronger as they gradually moved to where the archer was up on one of his elbows with Bucky somewhat leaning over him. The grip on his neck shifted, moving down over his spine, between his shoulderblades and further down again. He could feel the heat through his own thin shirt. The warm was nice, relaxing, like a mild massage.

James responded with gusto, his mouth opening every now and again when they started getting a little more bold and eager for each other. He was kissing back, Clint staring to pull back and dive and pull back and dive in, over and over. It was hot, wet and sloppy, something he seemed to like at the moment with this man.

He tilted his head, getting a better angle and felt the tongue slipping out to run across and between the seams of his lips. His breath actually caught there for a moment, feeling the wet, hot muscle slide against his own and slither along his gums and over his teeth and up against his upper pallet. James let out a quiet groan, feeling him pull back and he was on the verge of pouting when he opened his eyes, not really recalling that he’d closed them. He was panting lightly, Clint too, and they just stared at each other for a moment, just gazing at the dazed and glazed over faces and eyes.

“That was some CPR,” the archer smirked widely and shifted, both of them moving to stand and then look around the room. Clints’ smirk instantly dropped when he saw the mess they’d left behind. James didn’t really see a problem since they had fun, but he was sure that the archer was worried about Tony’s and Steve’s reaction to this. He was aware that his old friend had asked Barton to watch him while they were out, and that was why Clint invited him for a night in, to watch tv and stuff. Though, instead they had one of their very own wars and Bucky ended up giving CPR. It was fun so far.

“We’re so dead,” he heard the archer whisper under his breath. James felt the need to correct him on something.

“Actually, _you’re_ dead. I had no idea you set this up in the first place,” there was a tv in Clints’ bedroom, right? Bucky turned around and walked over to the kitchen, easily locating the pizza and beer in the corner, out of the way of the mess and he grabbed everything, balancing the boxes with his right hand and carrying the stacks of beer with his left.

“Whoa, hey, wait up,” he called after him, hearing the footsteps quickly catch up.

“ _I’ll have the maid-bots clear the room, Mr. Barton,_ ” the AI suddenly spoke up, spooking James for a moment. He was really not used to the disembodied voice yet.

“JARVIS, you’re a life saver,”

“ _Thank you, sir_ ,”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope ya'll enjoyed the tiny fluff of adorableness and humour xD


End file.
